


Feels Pretty Civilian

by oflights



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Choking, Cock Rings, Consensual Somnophilia, Handcuffs, Kink Exploration, M/M, Spanking, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-17 17:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13663692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oflights/pseuds/oflights
Summary: Gabe and Tyson have a healthy, burgeoning sex life--except Tyson's got a ton of kinky experience and Gabe hates feeling like he's playing catchup. He's pretty good at learning on the job, though.





	Feels Pretty Civilian

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [emilyisobsessed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyisobsessed/pseuds/emilyisobsessed) in the [AVSFAM](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/AVSFAM) collection. 



> This is for Emily's fabulous kink exploration prompt, wherein Gabe considers himself a fairly kinky, open-minded guy and then realizes he's got nothing on Tyson. As per usual, my brain took a left turn on this prompt and didn't follow it perfectly, but I'm hoping she'll like it anyway. 
> 
> As per even more usual, there's like waaaay too much other stuff I really wanted to get in here but couldn't. So like I probably need to write a chastity fic, it's fine. Definitely heed the tags and understand that this is a kinkfest that probably should've been even kinkier. Sorry.
> 
> Thank you to the rest of #avsfam for making this prompt challenge really fun and amazing, I'm so excited about it and I hope it's the first of many!! And thank you to Bridget for the speedy beta, as always.
> 
> The title is from [Chateau Lobby #4](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A6NuYJ0RzRg). :~)

Gabe isn’t quite sure how he wound up in a hotel room in Winnipeg playing Never Have I Ever with the rookies, but he can at least take some comfort in the fact that EJ’s here too, so he can’t be the only one feeling ancient. 

EJ is actually old, a fact Gabe likes to remind him of frequently. It’s perpetually weird to be considered a 25-year-old wily vet, though it’s at least a feeling he’s used to ever since he got the captaincy so young. But it never feels weirder than when he’s hanging out with Kerfy, Josty, and JT. 

Tyson is here too, which isn’t as much of a comfort; it’s impossible to make him feel old, and that’s made pretty clear by the fact that he’s turned what was supposed to be a dumb, lighthearted drinking game clearing out the minibar into some kind of fiery sexual experience competition. He’s destroying them all, and so he’s drunk.

“This is unbelievable,” Josty says, even though he’d been the first to bring up sex stuff; he’d raised an eyebrow and proclaimed to never have ever eaten ass, and instead of following the rules of the game, Tyson proposed a toast in Nate’s honor, sent back home to get his shoulder checked out. So Gabe can’t be sure which of his teammates have actually eaten ass because they all solemnly drank, but the problem is Tyson didn’t stop drinking after that no matter what dubious sex act the boys could come up with. 

Tyson snorts, waving dismissively at Josty. “You’re a child. You’ll see someday, none of this is next level stuff.” The rookies definitely _had_ been uncreative in their sex suggestions beyond Josty’s first; JT proposed reverse cowgirl like he was proud of himself and then his face matched his hair when Tyson said “Reverse cow _boy_ ,” and drained the last of a tiny gin bottle, clinking it with EJ and Gabe’s bottles after they’d drunk, too. 

Neither of them can keep up with Tyson, though, and that’s—Gabe’s uncomfortably aware of a few facts here: one, he is sleeping with Tyson and feels progressively overmatched every time Tyson takes a drink and he doesn’t, and two, the only other person in the room who knows Gabe’s sleeping with Tyson besides Tyson is EJ, so Gabe can’t really have the meltdown he wants to have about this, and he has to watch himself in front of the rookies. 

This is really not something he likes having to do, and this is why his favorite rookie will always be Mikko.

Still, he’s somewhat determined to find _something_ Tyson hasn’t done, and he decides that might need to be a private challenge. It’s EJ who finally stops Tyson up: “Never have I ever had sex while I’m asleep,” and Tyson pauses. 

“What, like, a wakeup beej?” 

“Oh, I’ve done that,” Josty says excitedly, and he and Kerfy fist bump when they both drink, then look at JT, sitting there sullenly. “What! How have you never gotten one of those? It’s the best, man.”

JT shrugs. “Whatever. Is that even what you meant?” he asks EJ, who also shrugs.

“Sure,” EJ says, but Gabe and Tyson are both looking at him suspiciously, and they’re probably the only two that get the devilish turn of his lips; Gabe knows Tyson gets it because he laughs, suddenly and brightly. 

“Oh wow. Okay Johnson, you finally got me,” Tyson says, shaking his head. “Never done that before.” 

The rookies cheer, though Gabe’s still pretty sure they don’t entirely understand. Gabe says, “Thank god,” and they declare the game finally over, even though the rookies don’t entirely understand what he means then either. 

They break up and clean up the little bottles and start heading off to their own rooms, leaving Josty and JT to bicker about the upsides and downsides to wakeup blowjobs—they close the door on Josty saying, “You just gotta experience it,” and give each other the same raised-eyebrow look in the hallway. 

EJ taps Gabe on the back and mutters, “You’re welcome.” He flashes a toothless grin at Gabe’s glare and lopes off to his own room, leaving Gabe to walk Tyson back to his room.

“I would let you, you know,” Tyson says quietly once Kerfy’s safely behind a closed hotel door, and Gabe lets out a short bark of a laugh. 

“Is that a hint? Should I wake you up with a blowjob tomorrow? Maybe you’ll actually make it to practice on time.”

“That’s not what I mean,” Tyson says, giving Gabe a serene smile. Gabe swallows hard and then shakes his head.

“Is there anything you wouldn’t let me do to you?” and he’s joking, really, trying to ignore that lingering feeling of being overmatched, because he and Tyson have a really great sex life even if it’s new and Tyson has never even suggested being bored, so there’s no reason to feel that way. 

And then Tyson says, “Nope,” all casual and clear with happy drunken honesty, and he gives Gabe a quick, sloppy kiss at the door to his room before belatedly looking up and down the deserted hallway and sliding into his room like a fucking tease and. Yeah. Gabe feels a little overmatched. 

But Gabe also feels like Tyson just confirmed something of a challenge for him, and he probably needs to meet it head-on if he’s going to be able to look at himself in the mirror. Basically, he probably needs to start doing more stuff to Tyson, and the prospect is exciting and scary and a little embarrassing. 

More embarrassing is realizing that he might have to go to EJ for more suggestions, and Gabe groans and shuts himself in his room. 

 

“I could spank you,” Gabe says casually one morning when they’re back home for a bit and Tyson had been too lazy to go home the night before. It’s always fine by Gabe—he almost wishes Tyson wouldn’t always hide behind laziness and just say he wants to stay, because Gabe almost always offers, but whatever. This whole thing is new and Gabe’s not going to push that part of it.

This part, though—Tyson snorts over the smoothie Gabe forced him to try, promising it didn’t taste healthy at all, and he coughs a bit before croaking out, “Sure? If you want to.”

“If _you_ want to,” Gabe says, and Tyson rolls his eyes at him. 

“Like I’m gonna say no, get outta here.”

“Well I want to, and you want to, so we should do it, right?” He loads every bit of confidence and swagger he has into his next grin, just to watch Tyson blink a little and shift in his seat. “You in?”

“For sure,” Tyson says, licking his lips. And then they have to go to practice, which they don’t do together because it’s just not what they do; what they do is have sex, and that’s about to get a whole lot more interesting. 

Tyson winds up getting to the rink a little later than usual and so he’s scrambling getting on the ice on time, and Gabe knows he’s selfish but it’s definitely a little satisfying to think about him being distracted by Gabe, preoccupied with what they’re going to do together soon. It makes Gabe feel like they’re more on even footing.

Of course, then Tyson catches him off guard by showing up at Gabe’s house _after_ practice, hands in his pockets and small smile on his face when Gabe answers his front door. “Well?” he asks, and Gabe stares at him. “You ready to do this?” 

“ _Now_?” Gabe asks, feeling like an idiot immediately when Tyson rolls his eyes and shoves his way past. 

“Yes now, I don’t want my ass to hurt on the plane ride tomorrow,” Tyson says, shedding his coat and shoes and looking impatient. 

“What! How hard do you think I’m going to hit you?”

Gabe’s probably imagining it, but he thinks Tyson’s shoulders droop a bit in disappointment, though none of that shows on his face when he just rolls his eyes again. “As hard as you want, I guess. Come on, or do you need—equipment?”

“Equipment?” Gabe asks, and he barely refrains from smacking himself in the forehead because he is an _idiot_ and has to stop announcing it plainly. “Okay, whatever, no—I can hit you hard, Tyson. If you want that.” Tyson just shrugs, which is frustrating, and that fails to keep Gabe from adding, “What, like, a paddle?”

Tyson goes pink. “Whatever.”

“I’m just gonna use my hand?” Gabe says, and then he clears his throat loudly and tries to stand up a little taller. “I mean. I’m using my hand. I don’t need a paddle. Let’s go.”

That earns him a little cheer, and then a race up to the bedroom, where they both scramble a little bit like Tyson getting to the rink too late to take his time like usual. Gabe hopes Tyson mistakes his nerves for eagerness; he’s certainly not lacking in the latter as well, and at least Tyson looks just as eager. 

They stop up over positioning, naked and laughing awkwardly about it until Tyson kisses Gabe and then crawls over his lap on the bed on all fours, and Gabe swallows hard and thunks his head against the headboard a bit.

He slides his palm over Tyson’s bare ass, a fairly familiar handful by now; he spreads his fingers and says, “Ready?” lowly and carefully. 

Tyson gives him a small, impish smile beneath slightly hooded eyes and still pink cheeks and says, “Go for it, man.”

The smile drops when Gabe smacks him, probably not as hard as he can but close to it. Gabe watches Tyson’s head drop too, his eyes sliding shut, and Gabe tries biting his tongue as hard as he can but can’t help asking, “Okay?” 

“Mmm,” is all that Tyson says, but Gabe can read the annoyance in his set shoulders, the way his fingers are curled up into fists where they’re taking half his weight. Gabe spanks him again in answer and keeps it up, hard enough to rock Tyson’s body forward, telling himself over and over that Tyson definitely _likes_ it and, a little guiltily, knowing that he likes it too.

Gabe likes the slight shake in Tyson’s forearms, the way his breathing catches a little and the sounds he can’t help escaping as Gabe keeps going, hitting him in quick succession. 

He pauses only to shake the sting out of his hand and admire the pink starting to bloom across the nearer of Tyson’s ass cheeks; he looks at Tyson’s face again, screwed up and a little sweaty, panting softly through his open mouth. Gabe switches to the other cheek and watches Tyson’s jaw work in response.

The only other thing Gabe would want out of this is Tyson’s open eyes, but he trusts the rest of his body. He tweaks his hardening dick, his balls hanging between his legs, and Tyson lets out this whimpery little sound that makes Gabe laugh shortly.

And _that_ gets Gabe what he wants; Tyson’s eyes fly open, burning bright, color spreading as rapidly over his face as it’s spreading across his ass, still perked up into Gabe’s touch. “You look ridiculous like this,” Gabe says, and he means it with as much fondness and affection as he can muster, but Tyson—he goes a little tenser, gives a little moan, and curls inward a bit. 

He’s embarrassed, Gabe realizes, and—yep, Gabe feels for his dick again and wraps a hand around where it’s starting to drip precome. He’s embarrassed and it’s turning him on, and _that’s_ turning Gabe on, and that’s—definitely something to keep in mind.

He keeps it in mind as he spanks Tyson harder, notching it up even when Tyson makes a hurt sound and drops his head again. Gabe doesn’t ask if he’s okay because he thinks that would ruin it; he just stays the course and says instead, “I should make you count them out, eh?” a little nasty. 

Tyson mumbles something like “too late” and Gabe chuckles, just as nasty, and gives Tyson a particularly hard hit right where his cheeks meet—low, making Tyson’s balls quiver and his upper body droop. “Next time, then,” Gabe says, and when Tyson closes his eyes and shakes his head, trembling all over, Gabe hits him even harder in the same spot, telling him, “Hey, focus!”

Tyson’s eyes fly open, wide and a little wet. Gabe moves his hand as if to hit him again, feels Tyson bracing for it, and grabs his dick instead, giving it a slightly dry tug. He spits in his other hand and switches it out, rubbing Tyson’s ass with one hand and jerking him off with the other, digging his fingers into the hot, pink skin until Tyson makes that whimpery sound again and starts to stiffen up.

He shakes out an orgasm before collapsing over Gabe’s lap, breathing hard. Gabe wipes his hand on Tyson’s ass and admires the violent pink of it, digs his fingers in one last time to see the bright white imprints they leave and to feel Tyson shake and fidget, then feels inspired and eases out from underneath him. 

“What’re you—” Tyson starts, voice thick and still wet like his eyes were, but he cuts off when he presumably hears the slide of the bedside drawer and the lube bottle snapping open in Gabe’s hands. Tyson raises his ass just a little and Gabe groans and jerks himself off onto it.

“Fuck, you’re dirty,” Gabe groans out once he’s finished, left to admire his come now coating his previous handiwork. Tyson wriggles around a bit and Gabe puts his hands on his hips. “No, stay like that. I like this view.”

“I’m glad,” Tyson says, a little smug. He has his hands folded over each other and his cheek resting on them, smiling serenely up at Gabe like he’s not the one that just got spanked over Gabe’s lap. 

“I guess you’ve been spanked a lot,” Gabe says, knowing it’s definitely true when Tyson shrugs. He swallows back any stupid, completely misplaced disappointment to bite out, “You definitely take it well.”

Tyson turns pink again, his smile slipping and his squirming starting up again. Gabe grins at him, stroking a hand down the back of Tyson’s thigh and scratching lightly across the skin. “Of _course_ you’ve been spanked. You’re a fucking brat, aren’t you?”

“Geez,” Tyson says, burying his face in his hands. “Relax, okay?” 

“Okay,” Gabe says happily, but it feels like a small victory. He relaxes back against the headboard and feels another wave of satisfaction lap at his insides when Tyson stays in the position Gabe told him to, until Gabe drags him up for a long, slow kiss. 

 

 

It takes a little bit to work it out in his head, but eventually Gabe has this sorted: Tyson’s into Gabe having the upper hand sexually, and he’s into being embarrassed about it. The only problem is it feels hard to gain the upper hand when Tyson’s so experienced and Gabe kind of isn’t when it comes to this stuff, but it’s a work in progress. It’s a challenge, and Gabe’s always one to embrace a challenge.

It feels a bit like it might be too much of one, though, when Gabe produces handcuffs one night and Tyson actually laughs out loud. “Oh god,” Tyson says, shaking his head over the hurt expression Gabe can’t really help. “It’s not—yeah, let’s do it, I’m into it, but—”

“But what?” Gabe asks, annoyed. He’d been excited when he thought of the handcuffs, though he’d suspected deep down they still weren’t the next level Tyson apparently aspires to. 

Instead of answering like a normal person, Tyson says, “Never have I ever been fucked in handcuffs,” and takes a long gulp of the wine they’d been drinking with dinner. 

“You’re an idiot. That’s not how you play the game!”

“I’m just saying, if you’re gonna keep up this crazy sex mission, you can try just asking me about stuff I haven’t tried or would want to try with you and we can go from there.” Tyson shrugs. “We don’t have to do anything too intense for you, but—”

“We can do anything, that’s the whole point, I’m just—” Gabe breaks off because Tyson’s right, they can just talk about this and go from where Tyson wants to go. Except Gabe still feels embarrassed about it, and he’s not really into that like Tyson is. Mostly he just wants to do a good job. 

“You should definitely cuff me,” Tyson says, placating. He holds out his stupid wrists and Gabe glares at him. 

Instead of cuffing him, Gabe grabs him by the wrists and pulls him up into the guest room that has the bed with the slotted headboard. Tyson goes, “All right, let’s do it,” and gets out of his clothes and then he makes out with Gabe on the bed for a while and lets himself get cuffed to the bed, eyes bright and thrilled when Gabe leans away to look at him. 

“Stay here,” Gabe says, feeling his face heat up when Tyson laughs again, jerking his wrists against the headboard.

“Can’t really go anywhere, man.”

“You know what I mean!” 

“I know,” Tyson says, and he relaxes, spreading his legs and shifting down a bit. Gabe looks at him, pictures him bent in half at the waist with his legs over Gabe’s shoulders and his arms straining against the cuffs, and has a somehow better idea. 

Tyson’s not so relaxed after Gabe has returned with lube and a condom and knelt on the bed with his hands behind him, fingering himself open while his dick bobs up under Tyson’s hungry gaze. “Holy shit,” Tyson says, and he says it again when Gabe rolls the condom over Tyson’s dick and slicks it up and then positions himself over it, gaping up at him. 

“Stay still, and don’t you dare fucking come,” Gabe says, and he watches Tyson shudder all over. 

Then Gabe goes about fucking himself on Tyson’s dick, bracing his weight by gripping the headboard close to where Tyson’s cuffed and basically draping himself over him. Tyson doesn’t really stay still, not even when Gabe says, “Behave!” and Tyson gives that whimpery sound again that Gabe has come to realize is his stock response to being humiliated in bed, and Gabe wishes he could bottle it and keep it with him always. 

Instead, he tries just eliciting it more, fucking himself thoroughly and with most of his energy. He knows what he looks like but if he didn’t, Tyson’s face could tell him, his mouth open and his breaths short and desperate, his whole body straining under Gabe’s control. It’s fucking ridiculous how good it is, and Gabe feels like a genius again, like there’s no way Tyson could laugh at him for this. 

What little energy he doesn’t put into riding Tyson hard Gabe uses for talking to him, telling him in no uncertain terms that Gabe is going to use him until he’s satisfied and “there’s nothing you can do about it, is there?”

“Fuck,” Tyson says, tipping his head back and baring his throat invitingly.

“Can’t really go anywhere, right?” Gabe says meanly, and Tyson groans like he’s been punched and Gabe dips his mouth in to kiss and suck on his neck. 

All at once, he feels Tyson stiffen up in a too familiar way, and he pulls back. “Are you _serious_?” Gabe asks, raking his gaze over Tyson’s face, impossibly stupid and pretty in turn as he comes. Gabe pushes up so Tyson’s completely out of him, making him groan once more, and doesn’t give him any time to really come down before he grabs him by the chin and gets him to look at him. “What did I say, Tyson?”

“Sorry,” Tyson says. He doesn’t sound sorry enough because he looks embarrassed and Gabe knows enough now to know that’s a good thing: the way Tyson’s curling in on himself, chest heaving and eyes fever bright, twitching with aftershocks. Yeah, he’s not really sorry. 

“You’re pathetic.” Tyson whimpers, and Gabe reaches for the handcuff key and unlocks just one of them to slip them out of the headboard slot. With careful, precise movements—doing everything in his power not to hold back, not to check in and make sure this is all okay because it’s clearly fucking okay, lay off Gabe—he cuffs Tyson’s hands behind him and then pins him on his back. “Try not to embarrass yourself while I take care of this, okay?” 

“Oh, fu—” The rest of Tyson’s breathy, turned on exclamation gets cut off as Gabe kneels over his head and feeds him his dick, fucking his mouth gently at first and then faster as Tyson moans harder. 

“You sound like a porn star, Jesus,” Gabe says, but it’s impossible not to tell Tyson how hot it is, too, as Tyson just takes his dick down his throat like a champ and swallows around him while squirming in humiliation. 

Gabe pulls out to finish on Tyson’s face, which makes him feel vaguely invincible for a few moments as he comes down. He slumps to catch his breath, letting Tyson take his weight until the sight of Tyson licking come off his lips snaps him out of his stupor, and he rolls off to lie beside him.

“That was—” Gabe says, searching for the word, searching Tyson’s face to look for where he went too far. Tyson nods, flashes Gabe a quick smile, and then looks a bit sheepish. 

“Yeah, it really was. Sorry I—”

“It’s okay,” Gabe says quickly, feeling a bit more like he’s in the real world now. “It was really fucking hot.”

Tyson flushes and looks very pleased, if also embarrassed, and shakes his head. “Next time, you should just put a cock ring on me.” When Gabe stares at him, Tyson shrugs and adds, “I have one.”

That doesn’t entirely help the feeling of being out of his depth again, but Gabe thinks he’s probably going to have to get over that at some point because Tyson’s advice is sound and fairly ingenious. “Okay,” Gabe says, pressing his lips into a smile that grows warmer the more he looks at Tyson’s pleased, fucked out face. “I’ll put a cock ring on you.”

“Awesome. Can you take the condom off now?” 

And Gabe sits up quickly, saying, “Oh, shit, of course,” and scrambles to get Tyson out of the handcuffs and out of the condom, wiping his face off for good measure. He doesn’t even mind when Tyson laughs at him this time, enjoys the gentle vibrations of it on his lips when he catches the end of it in a kiss. 

Later, Tyson says, “Never have I ever fucked someone in handcuffs,” and pointedly doesn’t take a sip of the bottle of water Gabe got him, and Gabe grins up at the ceiling.

 

 

After that, it’s somehow easier to just listen to Tyson, even if listening to his ideas is somehow as terrifying as it is exciting in turn. Tyson shows Gabe the cockring and yeah, it’s fucking good to get Tyson hard as hell and then get fucked long and hard and good, taking his time, getting Tyson desperate as Gabe takes what he needs and then gets him off after.

It’s intense and dirty and Gabe feels completely exhilarated. It’s somehow better when he gets to pull Tyson to him in the aftermath, to hold him as he comes down from what he assures Gabe was the hardest he’d come in a good long while.

Gabe kisses his forehead and says, “I’m glad,” and kind of just. Glows for a while, happy and smug. Everything they try is working. Everything is good. 

Of course, Tyson’s next suggestion is daring and over the top and maybe too much. They’ve slid from making out to lazy, easy fucking, Tyson bent in half with his legs wrapped around Gabe’s hips, and he blurts out, “You should choke me,” and laughs at Gabe’s dumbfounded expression.

“Seriously?”

“Go for it,” Tyson says, his standard response, and Gabe’s fingers kind of flex uncertainly before Tyson guides them around his throat and looks up at Gabe with a challenging, mischievous glint in his eyes. “Come on—” And whatever else he’d planned to say to goad Gabe into it gets cut off with a gasp as Gabe closes his fingers and fucks into Tyson at the same time. 

There’s never really a moment when Tyson doesn’t look into it—not even when he tears up and turns red, throwing his head back and just giving Gabe more room to work with. But Gabe can barely give a few squeezes before he’s pulling his hands back and shutting up Tyson’s dismayed, protesting groan by grabbing his dick and jerking him off until he comes. 

He follows suit fairly quickly, which makes his face burn and his hands shake as he pulls out of Tyson and settles down next to him, head spinning. For a moment, there is only the sound of Tyson’s heavy breathing—Gabe did that, and he pushes his arms over his face and keeps them there even as he feels Tyson sit up and then poke him in the side. 

“Hey,” Tyson says, a little croaky. “You could’ve just said no?”

“I wanted to try it,” Gabe says, not removing his arms. He can still somehow hear Tyson rolling his eyes. 

“I told you, we don’t have to try _everything_. This isn’t a competition. The sex is good all the time, and—look, I wouldn’t have thrown it out there with just anyone.”

That almost makes Gabe _want_ to remove his arms, but he resists until Tyson tugs them away forcibly, holding his forearms tightly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I trust you.” Tyson shrugs. “Even though you’re a massive drama queen, oh my god.”

“Stop it!”

“Sorry, but you are.” He cringes, though, looking contrite. “Okay, and I shouldn’t have suggested it during sex. That was my bad.”

“It’s okay. We can try it again sometime, I just—”

“You did a really good job,” Tyson tells him, and Gabe feels something warm and pleased spread through him, something deeper stirring that maybe needs some exploration too, sometime. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Don’t let it go to your giant head, though.”

Gabe laughs and has that invincible feeling again.

There’s more talking after that, and a series of shifts in what now feels like a proper relationship. They still want their privacy, especially since they’re on the road more often than not nowadays, so they’re quiet, but Tyson trusts him, and Gabe is pretty sure that means something. 

Gabe finds himself trusting Tyson, too, and so he takes it in stride when Tyson tells him about safewords and suggests they both come up with some. “Just in case,” Tyson says, a little teasing and coy, a glint of excitement in his eyes. Gabe wonders what’s coming next and then realizes he doesn’t have to wonder, he can just start asking, and so he does.

And then he’s grateful for the safewords because somehow asking Tyson what he wants to do that night leads to them opening up Tyson’s toy drawer and going nuts with nipple clamps and and a blindfold and a paddle—“I got this the day after you spanked me the first time,” Tyson says, and then he doesn’t say much at all after that because Gabe paddles him pretty hard, then teases his hole with the handle of the paddle until Tyson’s dampening the blindfold with tears. 

Gabe makes Tyson cry, and he handles that, and he doesn’t make Tyson safe out and he thinks that’s how. Additionally, he gets to clean Tyson up afterward, and all the surreal stuff gets grounded by this: he can believe he left the nipple clamps on that long and tugged that much because he gets to rub Tyson’s nipples after and feel how raw and hard they still are, and how Tyson leans into every touch. 

“You’re the best,” Tyson tells him dreamily, curling up against him, and Gabe holds him and beams and lets himself be proud. 

 

 

When they’re back home for a good, hearty stretch, Tyson spends one night fully knowing he’ll probably spend the next night, too, and Gabe’s okay with that. They have a day off and Gabe is always excited about days off now, but it’s not just excitement he feels when Tyson announces, “All right, I think it’s time.”

“Time for what?” Gabe asks, and Tyson lets out a noisy sigh. 

“Don’t play dumb. I told you I’d let you, and I’ve really never tried it before, and like— _everything_ I try with you is really fucking awesome, so there’s no way this won’t be.” 

Gabe is still lost, but he doesn’t really feel like an idiot about it anymore. He thinks Tyson gets a kick out of guiding him sexually, and he especially gets a kick out of telling Gabe what to do and then getting it completely turned around on him when Gabe _does_ it and then taunts him about what a slut he is for it. They have a good system for it. 

“I really don’t know what you mean, but I’m sure you’ll let me in on the actual words soon so—”

“You’re gonna fuck me while I’m asleep,” Tyson says, raising his chin, and Gabe freezes.

“Oh.”

“Only if you want to!” Tyson says quickly, putting up his hands again. “Seriously, the light has to be green for both of us, but I’m sitting here telling you it’s definitely, definitely green for me, like, super green—”

“Okay but—how does the safeword work if you’re asleep?” Gabe asks, shaking his head. “That’s the only thing. I want—I want to try it, but I don’t want to fuck up and go too far.”

Tyson takes his hand over the table, leaning to look him right in the eyes. “The safeword doesn’t really work for this, but this is me saying, like—I want you to fuck me while I’m sleeping. I want to wake up with you inside of me.” He pauses to shudder a bit, looking turned on already. “I really, really, _really_ —”

“Okay!” Gabe says, and then to chase any lingering doubts, to remember why he trusts Tyson a lot at this point, he says, “Of course you want me inside you while you’re asleep, you want me inside you all the time,” and that turns into a whole thing. 

At the end of it, it’s settled, and they prepare for it that night. “The trick is going to be not waking me up too fast,” Tyson says while they get ready for bed in the bathroom, frowning at Gabe’s medicine cabinet. “Maybe I can take someth—”

“No,” Gabe says, as firm as he’d use his own safeword, and Tyson nods and doesn’t suggest it again. “I have a better idea.”

“You have the best ideas,” Tyson says a little while later, down on all fours while Gabe slips a lubed up, decently sized plug in him. He falls asleep with a content, sweet smile on his face and Gabe stares at it in disbelief before he falls asleep too. 

He wakes up before the alarm he’d set to vibrate under his pillow, his body looking out for him. Tyson is still asleep next to him, deep and untroubled; he looks warm and young and Gabe watches him for a while before carefully, slowly getting started. 

It’s painstaking and slightly nerve-wracking to slide Tyson’s plug out without waking him, and Gabe’s questioning his own ideas again as he does it, inch by inch. He thinks he’s failed when it’s finally free and Tyson’s clenching around nothing, jerking his head up to look at Tyson’s face, but no—Tyson’s still asleep, still a deep one, his breaths even and soft. 

Gabe finds himself grinning hard, and he presses a soft, secret kiss against the inside of Tyson’s thigh and whispers, “Slut.” He thinks that’s the first piece, letting himself talk to Tyson like that simply for his own benefit, knowing that if Tyson were awake it would be going straight to his dick and showing up in color all over his face. 

The second piece is this: indulging himself by slipping his fingers into Tyson, ostensibly to check if he’s still wet enough, really because he _can_. For once, in the quiet of the morning—it’s raining out, the cloud cover darkening the room to a dull gray and making everything outside feel very far away from them—Gabe doesn’t let himself feel guilty for liking this, and doesn’t have to remind himself over and over how much Tyson likes it. He just knows. 

He fingers Tyson gently, warming up lube in his palm and between his fingers to make sure everything is slick and easy before pushing it in. Tyson lets out a choppy breath and shifts, but he doesn’t wake, his mouth slipping open invitingly as Gabe’s fingers slip inside him. 

Gabe stills until the shifting passes and then pulls his fingers out, beaming when Tyson clenches again. “You really don’t like being empty, huh?” Gabe whispers, the truth of it burning in his gut and making his half-hard dick stiffen steadily. “I should really keep you filled up more.”

Tyson sighs, as if responding. He still doesn’t wake, and Gabe indulges himself again: “You’re being so, so good. You’re never this good for me when you’re awake.”

A hitch in Tyson’s breath, and it skitters through the air again when Gabe carefully and gently guides himself inside Tyson. He touches him more, knowing he’ll realistically only have a few more moments, wanting to feel every inch of this sweet, pliant Tyson—his soft dick slowly plumping up beneath Gabe’s open, gentle palm; the warm skin stretched across his belly where Gabe leans down to kiss; flex of his toes against Gabe’s bent knees as he pushes in completely. 

It’s a lot, and overwhelming, and so fucking _good_. Gabe gets a few short, shallow thrusts in before Tyson groans hard and smacks his lips together and wakes.

The fast, breathless seconds when Tyson looks up at him and still hasn’t registered what’s going on may be the most thrilling and terrifying of Gabe’s life, which might be pretty ridiculous considering he plays a contact sport for a living. 

But the seconds that come afterwards—the slow, fuzzy thrill that spreads across Tyson’s face, the pink that lights up his cheeks and the brightness that pierces through the haze in his eyes—those are definitely among the best seconds of Gabe’s life. They are only compounded by Tyson clenching around him and otherwise going limp, closing his eyes and giving in completely. 

Gabe lets out a breath he wasn’t entirely sure how long he’d been holding and starts fucking Tyson in earnest with a careful rhythm, getting him deep because he can and watching Tyson just take it and love it. “Look how easy you are,” Gabe says, just to watch Tyson shudder and go further pink, to see tears slip from his closed eyes and clump on his lashes. “Anyone could come in here and fuck you and you’d let them. Good thing it’s just me, right?” 

“Ah,” Tyson sighs, a hurt, deep sound that Gabe knows is precisely a good thing. Tyson’s hard now and starting to rock his hips as if he can make Gabe fuck him faster like that, so Gabe slows down to drag it out and makes sure to grind his dick against Tyson’s prostrate on his next thrust in, keeping it there. 

Tyson jerks in the sheets, and Gabe grins. “Can’t believe how easy this was. I think I’ve gotta keep you ready like that all the time now. Hmm? Can you picture that? Anytime I want I can just take your plug out and bend you over and take you, and you’d love it. Right?”

It’s better watching his words land, watching them burst across Tyson’s face and make him cry and gasp and shake. Gabe fucks in a few more times, hitting Tyson’s prostate again and again until his face screws up all the way and he sobs out his orgasm, thrashing until Gabe grabs his wrists and pins him down and kisses him, hard. 

He keeps fucking Tyson long past where he’d normally stop, where Tyson is shivering and crying more and clutching at him. The tight, hot pull of Tyson’s hole and the tight grip of his hands on Gabe’s arms pull him over eventually, and the relief on Tyson’s face is so good it nearly makes Gabe tear up, too. 

They’re both breathless and shaky in the aftermath, and it takes a lot for Gabe to pull out as gently as he can, snap the condom off, and gather Tyson up in his arms, kissing the side of his face and gripping him tight until he stops shaking. “You did so good,” he says, meaning it with everything he has, and also: “Thank you,” and there’s literally nothing that feels better than when Tyson says that back, soft and honest. 

 

 

On their next road trip, the rookies propose that they raid the minibar again, and this time Nate joins them, which is the only reason Gabe agrees. They sit on the floor and decide on Truth or Dare this time, but Tyson, of course, ruins it halfway in by announcing, “Never have I ever had sex while I’m asleep,” and then taking a shot of Jameson. 

A few things happen: Kerfy complains loudly about how he’s not even playing the right game; EJ falls onto his back laughing; Gabe takes a shot, too, and Nate looks between them and goes utterly scarlet; JT takes a long swig of beer, blushing way too hard, and then shoves his bottle at Josty, who cracks up as hard as EJ but dutifully drinks his share; and Tyson, smug as anything, looking way too obviously at Gabe, says, “Okay, fine, I dare you guys to find a new thing I haven’t tried.” 

The rookies start guessing again and Tyson keeps drinking, and Gabe doesn’t stop them. That’s not a dare for him, mostly because there’s no challenge to it anymore. He can keep trying to find those new things with Tyson forever. 

“I’m never drinking with you guys again,” Nate says.


End file.
